Kidnap My Heart
by misskaterinab
Summary: Kurt and Blaine meet in a large children's store when Kurt's daughter, Elsa, runs off and runs into Blaine. The two men hit it off immediately, but Dave Karofsky, Kurt's ex, shows up and takes both Elsa and Blaine by gunpoint. Kurt and Cooper, as well as Blaine and Elsa, bond during the ordeal, and through the eyes of their loved ones, Kurt and Blaine begin to fall for one another.
1. Chapter 1

_Written for the Kurt Big Bang 2015 challenge. Because FFN is a pain in the behind, I can't directly link you to the fabulous video and banner art that was made for my story, but I sure can tell you that luvtheheaven did a fabulous job. You can (probably, if FFN allows it) find a link to it on my profile. And my beta catwho2 - thank you! You ROCK!_

* * *

Blaine looked at the list in his hand, first with utter confusion, then with horror.

"Bam-BOOBIES? What the hell are those? My Brest Friend? NIPPLE CREAM?" He shook his head, as if to shake the unwanted mental pictures that had begun swirling around in his mind. "I am WAY too damn gay for this shit..."

He took his best friend's baby registry and scoured it for a less... _scary_... gift for the expectant mother. Most of the things on the list had already been purchased by those who had obtained their items in a far more timely manner than he, so he finally had to settle on a diaper pail.

"It is a sad, sad day when I have to choose between poop and boobs..." he muttered to himself. He snatched the pail off the shelf and spun around on his heels, eager to get out of the somewhat terrifying store. In his haste he nearly stumbled to the floor, narrowly escaping dropping the pail and making a complete fool of himself. He looked down to see what he had tripped on.

"Hi mister!" At Blaine's feet was a tiny little girl, no more than three or four years old, with long, silky blonde hair and sparkling sapphire blue eyes.

Blaine's heart melted. The child was adorable, and despite being completely out of his league in a baby store, he absolutely loved children. He crouched down so he could speak to the girl on her level.

"Well hello there! Are you okay? I didn't see you next to me. I hope I didn't hurt you when I ran into you."

"I'm okay mister!" she said with a bright smile.

"You shouldn't be here by yourself, sweetie. Is your mommy or daddy nearby?"

"Oh, I don't have a mommy. Just a daddy. I useta have TWO daddies but we had to move away from the other one. He's _MEAN,_ " she said, her arms crossed and a pout forming on her face.

Her mention of two daddies did not escape Blaine's ears, but he set aside that tidbit of information in his concern for the child's safety.

"Are you here with one of your daddies, then!"

"YEAH, mister! But I'm playing hide an' seek and waiting for Daddy to find me but I don't think he's coming." She shrugged. "Maybe he doesn't know we're playing?"

"Oh sweetie, hide and seek isn't a game you should be playing without telling someone. We should try to find your daddy. What's your name?"

Just as the child opened her mouth to speak again, Blaine heard quick footsteps and a frantic voice calling, "Elsa? ELSA! Where are you?"

Blaine looked down at the little girl. Long white-blonde hair, deep blue eyes..

"You must be Elsa," Blaine said with a grin.

"That's me! Elsa Elisabeth Hummel-Karofsky... but Daddy says I don't hafta worry about the Karofsky part anymore..."

The voice approached the section where Blaine and Elsa were standing. Blaine grabbed her hand and gently pulled her to the main aisle where they could be seen.

"Here I am, Daddy!" she said, breaking away from Blaine and bounding into the man's arms.

"Elsa, honey, don't you EVER run off like that again! I was so worried!" It was obvious to Blaine that the man was trying to sound firm, but the relief bled into his voice. The man held the little girl tight for several moments before he realized there was a third party standing nearby.

"Disney fan, huh?" Blaine said knowingly, a teasing smirk on his face.

The man gave Blaine an impressive "bitch, please" look. "Idina Menzel is a goddess. Just try and deny it."

Blaine immediately raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "I couldn't possibly," he said, laughing lightly.

The man straightened up to look at face Blaine at eye-level. Well, almost eye-level, anyway - Blaine immediately noticed that the man was a few inches taller than he was.

The man stuck out his hand. "Kurt Hummel."

"Bl - Bla - " Blaine stuttered. He hadn't fully looked at Kurt until that exact moment, but when he did, he was momentarily speechless. Blaine couldn't help but think that Kurt was, quite literally, the most attractive man he had ever seen. It was obvious that Elsa's eyes had come from her father; Kurt's eyes were the exact same shade of blue, and perhaps even more striking than his daughter's when you considered the rest of the package.

Which Blaine was most definitely now considering.

"That can't be it - I certainly don't think you're blah," Kurt said with a grin as he grasped Blaine's hand.

Blaine shook his head, hoping to snap himself out of his impromptu reverie. "Blaine Anderson," he said, much more confidently this time. They shook hands for a moment longer than most people would consider acceptable, and they dropped each other's hand somewhat awkwardly.

"Thank you for finding my daughter and keeping her safe," Kurt said softly, taking a moment to hug the child again. "She's so precocious and always getting into everything and I am constantly afraid that each time is the time where something awful is going to happen... I'm just glad she ran into someone decent," he finished.

"Me too," Blaine said with a smile.

There was an awkward pause. Blaine could tell that Kurt wanted to say something but hadn't quite managed to spit it out yet. He was just about to give up and excuse himself when Kurt said, "Listen, I don't want this to be weird, but I have to ask... are you...?" He gestured back and forth between him and Blaine.

Blaine figured out what he was asking immediately. "Yep. 100% gold star."

Kurt let out a sigh of relief. "Thank god. I have asked out one too many straight men in my day and... I mean, not that I am asking you out or anything, but...well, maybe I am... I mean, are you free? Like, not free as in your schedule, but is there anyone? Oh crap, I should just stop talking now..."

"Relax, Kurt. Yes, in that context, I'm free."

Kurt's face lit up. He eagerly dug his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a blank contact in his address book. Offering it to Blaine, he said, "Why don't you just put your phone number in here for me and I can give you a call..."

Blaine didn't reach for the phone immediately, making Kurt's heart sink a bit.

"On one condition," Blaine said.

Warily, Kurt asked, "And that is?"

"Help me figure out what the HELL I'm supposed to buy?" Blaine replied, waving around the registry listing. "I mean, you've got a kid, surely you have SOME clue what might not be completely useless?"

Kurt's stomach immediately relaxed. Shopping he could do. Rejection, not so much. "Sure, gimme," he said, reaching for the piece of paper in Blaine's hand.

Kurt frowned as he looked through the list. "Good lord, some people have no clue. I am by no means an expert in any sense of the word, but a lot of the stuff on this list is just stupid." He handed the handful of paper back to Blaine and grabbed the hand of the antsy little girl beside him.

"Follow me," Kurt said. He walked by a stack of shopping baskets and snagged one, handing it to Blaine without losing a beat.

Kurt grabbed a pack of reusable absorbent pads ("because no matter how pretty of a changing table you have, 99% of the time you're changing them on the floor"), a bundle of flannel receiving blankets ("to use as burp cloths - spit up travels way farther than you think it does"), a little duck that held a roll of tiny blue bags (" they always need to be changed when you're miles away from a garbage can"), and a Mommy Hook ("you should get one of these for yourself - they're meant to hold things to the handle of a stroller, but sometimes you have a bunch of bags from the grocery and only want to make one trip"). "There," he said, satisfied with the items he had found. "Useful, and you can save all the boob stuff for someone else."

Blaine chuckled. "Yeah, I didn't quite know what to make of that stuff." He set down his basket and turned to face Kurt. Grabbing one of his slender but strong hands, Blaine said, "Thank you. I really appreciate your help."

Kurt smiled widely. "You're welcome. Now maybe you can help me... ?"

"Me? Um, I don't know what I could possibly help with in a store like this, but I can try."

"Awesome." Kurt took his fidgety daughter's hand and led the way to the video game portion of the children's store and pointed inside a case. "I know these are video games, and I know my brother has an Xbox of some variety, but I'm afraid that's about the extent of my knowledge. My brother's birthday is tomorrow and we need a gift for him. He'd rather not get gifts at all than have me buy him clothes again, so that's out. He plays drums, but he's all set in that respect. So that pretty much leaves his gaming habit, and I'm not too proud to admit I'm completely out of my league. PLEASE tell me you can help me."

Blaine grinned. He could definitely offer some assistance with this one. Video games weren't his favorite hobby, but video gaming was a very popular pastime in the all boys boarding school he had attended.

"Oh sure! What kind of games does he like? Is he into RPGs or shooters or racing?"

"Ummm..." Kurt looked completely lost. One more minute and Blaine was certain his eyes would glaze over in confusion.

Chuckling, Blaine tried a different tactic. "Okay, how about this - does he play games over the internet with other people?"

Kurt looked thoughtful. "I've walked in on him with a huge headset on and him screaming at the screen. You think that's what he's doing?"

Blaine smiled. "Yeah, probably. Here, I have an idea." He left the video game case and headed to a large display of gift cards. He perused the rack for a few moments and selected a bright green one.

"Here you go. An Xbox Live membership. He can play online for a whole year with this one." Blaine set it gently in Kurt's outstretched hand.

"Oh that's PERFECT!" Kurt exclaimed. "I would've never thought of this myself. Thank you!"

"Daddy, Daddy!" Elsa interrupted, tugging on the hem of her father's shirt. "There's a princess doll on the top shelf that I want to see but I can't reach it! Can you hold me up please?"

"Not now, sweetheart. We've still got to go and pick up the cake for Uncle Finn's party tomorrow. I need to go buy this so we can get going."

"But Daddy!"

" _No_ , Elsa. Now let's go."

"Kurt, may I?" Blaine broke in. "You go pay, and I'll show it to her and then bring her to you in a minute."

Not wanting to give in to his daughter's demand, but also not wanting to deal with the tantrum he knew would come if she didn't get her way, Kurt acquiesced.

"Okay. But please, just a few moments. If you let her, she'll have you personal shopping the entire Disney section for her. And I've really got to run."

"Sure thing. Okay, Elsa, where is this doll?"

With the basket of baby gifts in one hand and the little girl's hand in the other, Blaine allowed himself to be dragged to the shelf of princess toys that Elsa had been excited to see. He set his purchases on the floor and swung the child up into his arms so she could see the doll she was anxiously pointing at. She jabbered on happily about the princess, whose movie she had recently seen, and Blaine paid close attention to every word.

He didn't notice that they were no longer alone in the aisle. He didn't see the foreign object until it had jabbed painfully into his ribs. He didn't hear a single sound until a threatening voice gave a sharp command.

" _Don't. Move._ "


	2. Chapter 2

Blaine froze, his grip on the child tightening until she yelped in pain. Elsa turned her head in the direction of the voice, and Blaine could see the instant she recognized it; terror spread across her features.

"P - papa?" she whispered in fright.

"Hi there Princess, didn't think you'd remember me after all this time. It's been so long since your daddy _stole_ you from me."

'Papa' reached out to stroke Elsa's hair with the hand that wasn't holding the gun at Blaine's side, but Elsa buried her face in Blaine's shoulder, drawing herself into a little ball in an attempt to get as far away from the unwanted touch as possible. Blaine adjusted his grip on the little girl and tried to turn to face his attacker, but the barrel of the gun stabbed even further into his side.

"Ah ah ah, I said, don't move," the man said in a sing-song voice.

"Listen, man, I don't know who the _hell_ you are, but - "

"Oh, where _are_ my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. Dave Karofsky is the name, husband of one Kurt Hummel-Karofsky, and papa to one miss Elsa Elisabeth Karofsky."

" _Hummel,_ " Elsa mumbled into Blaine's shoulder, but Dave hadn't heard her, and Blaine guessed that it was probably best that he hadn't.

"Well, listen Dave - "

"Come now, I've introduced myself to you. Seems it's only fair I should know the name of my husband's new butt buddy," he taunted.

"My name is Blaine Anderson," Blaine said through gritted teeth," and I am NOT your husband's - ugh, I'm not even going to say it."

"You know what, _Blaine_? I don't even give a shit. You can have him. He was a lousy lay anyway. What I _am_ interested in, though, is my little girl here. I haven't seen her in a full year, after Kurt up and ran away with her, and I intend to have my time with her. Hand her over."

Dave held out the arm that was not being used to hold Blaine hostage with, but nothing happened."

" _NEVER,_ " Blaine growled.

Dave moved the gun higher up Blaine's body, right near his heart. "Let her go, _NOW_ , or I'll kill you right now." He cocked the gun to emphasize this threat.

Blaine laughed. "You are an idiot, you know that?"

"How dare you! I'm starting to wonder why I haven't blown you to bits yet!" Dave was growing angrier by the moment.

"If you shoot me there, you'll probably kill your daughter at the same time, dumbass."

Dave shook with rage, but put the safety back on the gun. _Fuck, he's right,_ Dave thought.

"Fuck it," Dave decided. "If you're not going to let go of her, you're just going to have to come with me." He jabbed the gun back in the original place between Blaine's ribs, which was already very sore, but Blaine refused to give Dave the satisfaction. "Gonna need a sitter for her at some point anyway."

Dave shoved Blaine, who stumbled forward. "We're getting out of here. Walk toward that door over there, and if I hear one peep out of your mouth, I'm gonna shoot you and damn the consequences."

Dave hurried Blaine and Elsa out the small side door he had noticed when he followed Kurt and Elsa into the store. He was reasonably certain there was no security on it during business hours, and when they were able to pass through it without tripping any alarms, Dave allowed himself an internal sigh of relief.

Blaine looked at the door he had just gone through and before he was shoved unceremoniously into the car idling outside, he offered up a silent apology.

 _"I'm sorry, Kurt."_


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt stood in the unforgivably long checkout line, grumbling. If he hadn't already wasted so much time trying to figure out this damn gift for Finn, he would've just tossed it on the shelf and left the store, but he was on a time crunch and needed to get it, like, yesterday. The cashier (the only cashier open) was obviously brand new, and didn't even have a seasoned employee with her coaching her - he couldn't blame her for that, but it _was_ a weekend. She should have had help.

After what seemed like at least a few months of his life wasted, the girl finally got through the stumbling block that was the customer before him and managed to handle his own purchase like a pro. He slid the gift card for Finn into his wallet and began looking for his daughter and his new friend, but they were nowhere to be seen.

 _"They should've been up here by now,_ " he thought. _"They were only looking at the princess toys..."_

Kurt hurried back to the princess section and found only an elderly couple with no sign of a blonde haired little girl in sight.

"Elsa?" he cried out, panic leaking into his voice.

"She's right there," the grandmotherly woman said, but she was pointing at a doll on the shelf.

"My daughter," he spat out. "Have you seen her? She was named Elsa because looks just like the princess."

"I'm sorry, sonny - this aisle was empty when we got here," the woman replied gently.

Kurt began to run through the store, shouting his daughter's name and darting between startled shoppers.

"Sir, can I help you?" an employee asked him.

"My daughter," Kurt choked out. "She was looking at a toy with someone - I left just for a couple minutes - now she's gone."

"Can you describe her please, sir?"

Kurt rushed through the description of his daughter, and the store employee immediately jumped to action.

"We have a code Adam, repeat code Adam. Child is a four year old girl, long blonde hair, wearing blue jeans and a light blue sweater, answers to the name Elsa like the princess."

The employee, who introduced himself to Kurt as Josh, asked Kurt to follow him to the front of the store.

"But, I can't - I have to look for her!" Kurt protested.

"Sir, procedure is that the parent comes to the front of the store and stands with us at the door - if your child tries to leave, you'll know it. In the mean time, every single associate we have on duty is to be looking for your daughter until she is found. If she's here, we'll find her."

"What do you mean, _if she's here?_ Oh god..." Kurt cried, but he allowed himself to be led to the store entrance.

Ten minutes later, Kurt was nearly hyperventilating. His daughter was still missing, and every employee had come up empty in their search.

"Sir?" The store manager approached Kurt and gently tapped on his arm to get his attention. "I've called the police." Kurt blanched and stared at her blankly. "I've been reviewing the store security cameras and there's something I think you should see."

The store manager, Julia, turned to go toward the store offices, but quickly noticed she wasn't being followed.

"Sir?" she tried again. "Our front end team will continue to watch the door, but I really need you to come with me, okay?"

Kurt nodded and silently followed the woman. He felt as if he was walking the Green Mile, on his way to his death.

Julia brought Kurt to a room with several monitors in the corner, each one of them with a divided screen that showed live views of different parts of the store. She pressed a button that rewound the footage on one of the cameras back by a half hour. On the screen was his daughter, eagerly telling a man all about the toy in her hand.

A man.

 _Blaine._

"No," Kurt whispered. "He couldn't have..."

"Sir, who is this man?"

"His name is Blaine," Kurt said. "We met him in the baby section. My little girl ran away from me and he found her and kept her safe until I could find her."

"So you don't really _know_ him?" Julia asked.

"Well, no, but he couldn't... he wouldn't have just - "

Kurt was interrupted by the footage on the security camera. He stared at the screen in horror at the scene developing on the screen in front of him.

"Sir?" Julia asked.

"My ex-husband, Dave," he whispered. He watched as Dave forced Blaine and Elsa to walk through the store to a back exit. "Oh my god, he's kidnapped them."


	4. Chapter 4

Kurt was numb.

He had answered what had seemed like a million questions for a thousand police officers, detectives, news reporters, and god only knew who else. His father had arrived sometime during the whole process, he hadn't a clue when, but even Burt's comforting presence wasn't enough to pull Kurt from his fog. The only thing Kurt was able to acknowledge was that his daughter was gone, and his ex-husband had broken his restraining order to take her.

"Kurt," his father, Burt, said. "They've done all they can do here for now. It's time to go."

"Dad... my little girl..." Kurt cried.

"I know, son. The police know every possible way to get a hold of you when they find Elsa. They've issued an Amber Alert, so the entire country is going to be looking for her. C'mon. Let's go home."

"But - I can't go - she's not - "

Burt, understanding what his son meant, ushered his son toward the exit of the store. "I know, I know. I meant to my home. You're going to stay with me and Carole until your baby comes home, okay?"

Kurt bit his lip and nodded, following his dad out the door. His father knew him well, knew he would wallow amongst his daughter's things if allowed to be surrounded by them. His daughter had a presence in her grandparents' home, too, of course, but it wouldn't be as overwhelming to him as his own house would be.

Burt directed Kurt to his own car, his reassurances that Kurt's car would be brought home later by someone from the family falling on deaf ears, and sat him down in the passenger seat. By this time, Kurt had almost completely shut down, not even aware of his father's voice. The door was closed for him, and Kurt rested his cheek on the window, finally allowing the tears to fall.

The drive seemed to go by in just moments to Kurt, and all too soon he found himself getting out of the car. Force of habit made him turn toward the backseat to unbuckle his child from her booster. The moment he saw the empty seat, he choked on a sob and collapsed to his knees before his father, who was coming around the side of the vehicle to see what was keeping him, could catch him.

Kurt spent much of the rest of the afternoon mentally checked out. He was only minimally aware of being picked up, walked inside the house, and brought to his old bedroom in his parents' home. His stepmother, anxious to do anything she could for her stepson while avoiding her own grief, puttered around his room, shuffling around a tray of hot tea supplies on his bedside table and urging him into soft, comfortable loungewear. Carole peeled Kurt's cell phone out of his death grip and plugged it into the charger; it sprang to life with countless texts and voice message alerts, but a quick glance told her that there was nothing that needed to be addressed immediately. Sighing, she wrapped her arms around Kurt and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, and after receiving no response, she crept quietly from the room.

"Anything?" Burt addressed his wife.

Carole let out a long breath. "Nothing. He's just... not with us right now. I've seen Kurt in bad shape before, but he's always been the type to wear his feelings on his sleeve. I don't know what to do with this Kurt."

Burt was at just as much of a loss as Carole. "Me neither. I guess now we wait. Wait for news, or wait for him to crack, whichever comes first." He rubbed his hands across his face. "Look, though," he said, pointing to the TV screen. The sound was on mute, but the channel was tuned to a local news program. Photos pulled from Kurt's phone of Elsa, from Facebook of Dave, and from the security camera of all three of them, filled the screen, as a ticker with their details crawled across the bottom of the screen. "At least they're looking."

Burt and Carole stared at the silent screen for a few minutes when suddenly the words BREAKING NEWS flashed brightly across the television.

"Quick, turn it up, Burt!" Carole urged.

"We interrupt this news report for a piece of breaking news. A vehicle used in the kidnapping of Elsa Elizabeth Hummel has been found abandoned outside of a defunct shopping mall just outside of Wapakoneta on Interstate 75. Police believe that suspected kidnapper David Karofsky switched Elsa and Blaine Anderson, who was caring for Elsa at the time of the abduction, into a different vehicle, as there is no indication that any of them left on foot. Anyone witnessing any unusual activity in or around the area should contact the number on their screen or their local authorities immediately. We now bring you back to your regular programming."

"Why haven't they called us?" Carole cried. As if on cue, the house phone rang and Burt hurried to answer it while Carole checked in on Kurt. She found him sitting on the edge of his bed staring at his phone in his hand as it rang and rang.

"Where's my baby, Carole? Why won't they bring me my baby?" Kurt said in a heartbroken voice. His eyes begged her for an explanation.

"Oh Kurt," she said, her eyes welling up with tears. "I don't know. I hope they'll bring her to you real soon."

He answered her words with a toe-curling wail, and the moment Burt and Carole had been waiting for... and dreading... had arrived. The floodgates opened, and Carole found herself with her arms full of an inconsolable Kurt. She inched them down into a prone position on the bed, and she held onto the man for dear life as he wept.

An hour later, an emotionally spent Carole trudged into the living room from Kurt's room.

"He sobbed himself to sleep," she confided to Burt, her own voice a little scratchy from crying herself. "As a nurse, I've dealt with all stages of grief. I know what it's like to lose loved ones of my own. But somehow, that was the worst thing I've ever witnessed."

Burt nodded. "You had the benefit of closure. Kurt doesn't know where she is, if she'll be found, what condition she'll be in when - "

"Burt, _stop,_ " Carole commanded with a crack in her voice.

"I'm sorry."

"You can't talk like that, especially around your son. We won't make it if we think like that."

"You're right. I just don't know what to say, what to do. I'm at a complete loss."

Carole looked at her husband with a tear streaking down her face and a trembling lip. Burt pulled her into a bear hug and they stood holding each other for a very long time. Finally, Burt pulled away and led his wife to their bedroom to attempt sleep. They both knew it probably wasn't going to happen, but they needed to keep their strength up for their son and for whatever the next day, or days, would bring them.


	5. Chapter 5

" _ugh_ , fuck," Blaine swore, groaning as he stretched out achy limbs. "Did I get wasted last night?"

He was so _warm._ Which was strange, because it was pitch black. It wasn't usually that warm in the middle of the night.

Wait - it wasn't dark because it was the middle of the night. There was a dark blanket draped over his head.

"Blaine?" a young voice said from next to him. A young _female_ voice next to him.

Blaine's heart dropped into his stomach. _What the_ fuck _did I do?_ he thought to himself in a panic. _I'm_ gay _, and I'm not a pedophile..._

He reached up to pull the blanket off, but his hands were restricted. He grabbed hold of the blanket and pulled it away from his face the best he could, and he saw a flash of silver - duct tape. While it was definitely night outside, there was still a little light from the moon pouring in the windows of the car, he guessed, he was in. He looked next to him and found a tiny body cuddled up next to him, her frightened eyes staring back at him.

 _Oh no..._

The events of the previous few hours came flooding back to him.

"Shit, that tranq was supposed to last longer than that," a gruff voice mumbled from the driver's seat.

"Back under the blanket, asshole!" Dave yelled. "We're not there yet, and I don't want you to figure out where I'm taking you." Blaine was going to ignore the order, but he heard the click of a gun's safety and immediately draped the blanket back over himself and the child.

"Elsa, honey?" he whispered. "Are you okay?"

"I'm scared, Blaine!" Elsa whined.

"QUIET!" Dave shouted.

"Elsa, sweetie, you need to use your secret voice right now, okay? Pretend everything you say to me is a secret that no one else is supposed to hear."

"Okay," Elsa replied, immediately lowering her voice. "Like this?"

"Good girl," Blaine praised.

"I want my daddy," she whimpered. "Where are we?"

"We're in a car, going... somewhere. We're not supposed to know. I guess Dave is going to try to hide us somewhere."

"Why?"

"I don't know," Blaine said. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"When me and Daddy ran away. Daddy said he was doing bad things and we needed to go away so we wouldn't get hurt."

"I guess Dave didn't think your daddy should've done that. He probably thought taking you was the only way he could see you."

"I don't want to see him," she cried, her voice rising dangerously. Blaine gently pressed his fingertip to her lips and she got the hint. Her next words were quieter. "He threw a glass at Daddy and it broke and his cheek was all bloody. I was really scared. I ran and hid under my bed. After _he_ went to work the next morning, Daddy didn't take me to school. He packed my suitcase and we came to visit Grandma and Grandpa."

Blaine's heart broke for the little girl. No child should have to witness that kind of violence from someone who is supposed to love and care for them. "Well, we're just going to have to get you back to your daddy," he said. "I don't know where we're going, but when we get there I'll try my best to get us out of there. I promise."

"Thank you Blaine," Elsa said, cuddling up closer to him under the stuffy blanket.

After about fifteen more minutes, the vehicle bumped to an abrupt halt. Blaine started to pull the blanket down again, but a sharp voice said, "Don't even think about it. You and the kid are staying under the blanket until we get inside."

Dave's rough hands yanked both Blaine and Elsa out of the back of the car, an SUV was Blaine's best guess, at the same time, and when they were both steady on their feet, Dave shoved them ahead of them. Blaine walked carefully, but Dave didn't bother to warn him when he was close to the building, and Blaine smacked his nose right into what he presumed was a closed door.

"Ouch, fuck. What the hell, Dave?"

"Shut up!" Dave said, smacking Blaine in the back of the head. "Don't swear in front of my daughter!" Blaine winced and only just barely managed to bite back another curse - and a snarky comment about swearing, because the pot was certainly calling the kettle black that day.

Dave shuffled Blaine and Elsa into the building reasonably intact and locked the door behind them. He removed the blanket from them, and Blaine immediately took inventory of his surroundings. The windows were all boarded over - presumably to make the outside of the structure look long abandoned while obstructing their view of the outside - and there was very little of anything anywhere. Blaine's heart sank a bit; he saw absolutely NOTHING that he could use to contact anyone with or break free.

Dave pushed them into a small room at the back of the building they were in; it was an old lake cabin, at Blaine's best guess. There was almost nothing in the room except a thin mattress and some blankets on the floor, and a door that led to what Blaine could see was a tiny bathroom.

Dave tossed a single new toothbrush - obtained at one of Lima's family dentistries, as embossed into the handle - and a travel sized tube of toothbrush to Blaine, who missed them by a mile due to his bound wrists.

"How am I supposed to get your daughter ready for bed like this?" Blaine asked, raising his hands up in the air. Dave grumbled but pulled a Swiss army knife out of his pocket and slashed the tape, nearly cutting Blaine in the process.

Flashing Dave a dirty look, Blaine directed the little girl into the bathroom and supervised her nightly ablutions.

"Hurry up! I don't have all night," Dave yelled after just a couple of minutes.

"She's four, Dave, she's not going to be fast," Blaine replied, a bit of sass in his voice.

When they both had freshened up as best they could, Blaine and Elsa emerged from the restroom.

"This is your room. This is where you will stay unless I'm here in this cabin with you. I'm gonna be gone a lot for the next couple of days. I'll be busy making plans for me and my daughter to go far away where Kurt will never find us." Elsa cried out; the idea of being away from her daddy forever was devastating to her. Blaine silently hushed her before Dave could get too angry over her outburst. "He has forgotten that this kid is _MINE_ , maybe not in blood, but I paid for her to get here, and if he thinks he can take her he's got another think coming." The last few words were said mostly to himself, as if he were still trying to justify kidnapping her to himself.

"So what will we be doing?" Blaine asked.

"You'll wait."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Dave, Elsa is four. There's nothing here to occupy a child. No books, no paper, no crayons - how do you expect her to pass the time?"

Dave buried his face in his hands. He was beginning to regret not shooting Blaine while he had the chance. "Fuck. FINE, I'll find something tomorrow. For now, you sleep. Got a problem with that?"

Blaine looked over at the barely adequate bed and the child dozing off in his arms. Knowing Dave's question was rhetorical, he silently lowered the little girl to the floor and covered her up with the thin sheets that were passing as blankets.

"Oh, and by the way..." Dave whipped out the roll of duct tape and quickly rebound Blaine's wrists. "Pleasant dreams," he mocked and closed the door behind him. Blaine could hear several locks slide into place.

Blaine laid himself down carefully next to Elsa, narrowly avoiding falling without the use of his hands. As soon as he got comfortable, the now sleeping child wriggled close to him in her sleep. Blaine was amazed by the amount of trust Elsa put into him, a complete stranger.

He only hoped that that trust was warranted.


	6. Chapter 6

Kurt woke slowly the next morning. Before he even opened his eyes, he was pretty sure that something was wrong, but he wasn't really sure what. His eyes, nose, and throat were really sore, but he didn't really feel sick. He was painfully aware of the fact that he had obviously skipped his nightly skincare routine. In fact, he appeared to have fallen asleep in his outfit from the day before, completely missing even the most basic steps in getting ready for bed. Kurt opened his eyes and found himself in his old bedroom in his father's house. _That's funny,_ he thought. _Why would Elsa and I have stayed here?_

 _Oh._

Oh.

OH.

Kurt shot out of bed and tore out of the room, nearly falling flat on his face from the combination of the slick wooden floor and his stocking feet. He practically ripped off the door of his daughter's room in his haste to prove that the horrifying scene that had surfaced in his mind was 100% absolutely not true, but the moment he was faced with Elsa's completely untouched things, he dropped to the floor and let out a low, heartbroken moan.

Burt and Carole raced into the hallway and found the young man in a heap on the floor, rocking back and forth. Carole immediately joined Kurt on the floor and worked to calm him. Burt was about to go to Kurt's other side when the doorbell rang. Under any other circumstance, Burt would say to hell with whoever was at the door, but every chime of the doorbell had the potential to be their precious baby coming back home to them, so he hurried toward the front entrance while Carole took care of Kurt.

Burt threw open the door hoping to see Elsa, or at the very least, someone official with information as to her whereabouts, but he saw none. Instead, there was a tall, dark-haired handsome man, mid-thirties, Burt guessed, pacing lightly and wringing his hands. As soon as the door opened, the man stopped in his tracks and turned to face Burt.

Before the man could open his mouth, Burt put his hands in the air to stop him. "Listen, son, I don't know who you are, but we're kind of in the middle of a crisis here. We don't need any vacuums or encyclopedias, we don't know where your lost dog is, and we've already tried the religion thing and gave it a pass. So if you'll excuse me - "

Burt made to close the door and return to his son, but the stranger put a hand out to keep from shutting on him. "Sir, I know - I know there's a situation, but if I could _please_ \- "

Burt interrupted the man again. "You know? You some sort of reporter or something? Because I've already told you vultures a hundred times, we have NO COMMENT."

" _Sir_ ," the man pleaded. "If you would just allow me a moment to _explain_ , I - just..." A look of total defeat settled on his face, and Burt felt bad for him.

"Okay, kid. You've got one minute." Burt studied the man's face. "Say... you look kind of familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?"

The man nodded. "I don't think you know me, per se, but my younger brother and I look a lot alike. My name is Cooper Anderson."

"I don't think I know any Andersons..."

"My brother's name is Blaine. Blaine is the one who was taken along with the little girl."

Burt clapped his hand to his chest. "My god. I'm so sorry your brother got mixed up in my son's mess."

"Sir, it's fine. Well, no, it's not fine - my brother was kidnapped, nothing's fine about that - but don't apologize for anyone. It's nobody's fault but Dave Karofsky's." Cooper stuck out his hand, which Burt shook firmly. Burt stepped backward, allowing the door to open fully, and ushered Cooper into the house.

"I, um... I'll go and see how Kurt is," Burt said carefully. "When I answered the door, my wife was trying to calm Kurt down. He had just woken up and tried to go to Elsa, and... well, I'm sure you can figure out what happened next."

"I understand. I'm not in any huge hurry or anything. I figure if anyone has news, they can tell us both at the same time, so I don't have to rush home to sit beside any phones."

Burt nodded and hurried into the next room. "Kurt, buddy?"

Kurt looked up from Carole's shoulder, considerably calmer but still sniffling loudly.

"There's someone here to see you. Are you up for it?"

Kurt's expression turned sour. "If it's anyone other than the police with information on Elsa, I'm not interested."

"Kurt, normally I'd agree with you, and I'd happily throw them out myself, but I think in this instance it would be good for you to come to the living room with me."

Kurt frowned, wanting nothing more than to wallow at that point, but he trusted his father to make a good decision, so he grasped the hand that Burt held out to help him up and got to his feet.

As soon as Kurt laid eyes on the visitor in the living room, he was a bit confused. He had been expecting a well meaning friend or family member, but he wasn't sure what to make of the complete stranger standing in front of him. Well, maybe not a COMPLETE stranger. Kurt was sure he had seen some of those facial features before, even if he hadn't ever seen that face...

"I'm sorry, but do I know you?" Kurt asked, his tone a bit more snarky than the occasion called for. "I'm not exactly up for socializing, you know."

"Kurt," Burt admonished him.

Cooper extended his hand for Kurt to shake. "Kurt, my name is Cooper Anderson. My brother, Bl -"

Something suddenly clicked in Kurt's head. "Blaine! You're related to Blaine! Now I know why you seem so familiar." Immediately, something else clicked in Kurt's head. A wave of shame and embarrassment crashed through him. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry! Here I am, bitching and moaning about my own problems and here you are, missing family yourself. I feel so awful - how could I be so selfish?"

Kurt sat on the couch and wiped a few tears from his face. "I'm so sorry Blaine got mixed up in this. It's bad enough that my ex is crazy but it makes me sick that an outsider got caught up in our crazy."

"Kurt, stop," Cooper urged him. "None of this is your fault. Nobody's blaming you for anything, least of all me. Let's face it, this is different situation for each of us - Blaine being an adult makes it different. He can take care of himself. But Kurt, part of the reason I came here was to reassure you that I KNOW my brother. He absolutely adores children and wants to help every single one he sees."

Cooper gestured to the empty cushion on the couch next to Kurt and Kurt nodded slightly, allowing him to sit down. "I came here today for several reasons. I will admit that part of the reason is because I figure that since Elsa is a little kid, any new developments in their whereabouts will come to you guys first and I want to know everything as soon as everyone else does. But I also wanted to meet you. I wanted you guys to know Blaine. I wanted you to know that in this horrible situation, Elsa is in the best possible hands she could be in with my brother."

Kurt looked at Cooper, teary-eyed. "I'd really like that," he whispered emotionally.

Burt cleared his throat, and briefly interrupted the two men. "I'll quick grab you two some drinks and then I'll let you talk."

"Thanks, Dad," Kurt said gratefully. Burt set down two glasses of ice cold water on the coffee table in front of them, and then he made his exit.

Kurt and Cooper sat in silence for a few minutes, Cooper sipping on his beverage, and Kurt picking at a loose thread in the fabric covering the sofa. Then Cooper cleared his throat and began to speak.

"My brother is ten years younger than me, but he's still my very best friend. Blaine is just so _good._ He was never a Boy Scout, but he was always that kid running off to help the old lady cross the street or trying to rescue stray dogs.

"He doesn't know how to say no to ANYBODY, even if he knows deep down that he should, or that he can't help them with what they're asking. He once helped his friend move across the state when he had the flu. When any normal person would've been in bed barely able to move, that fool was out helping Wes move a million-pound four poster bed up two flights of stairs. He's terrified of heights yet he's constantly up on a ladder helping his elderly neighbor change a light bulb or wash her windows or get the cat out of a tree. When he was in college, he missed more class than he should've babysitting for the kids across the street. Good thing Blaine is damn smart."

"I only met Blaine briefly," Kurt offered, "but even in the store he was looking after my daughter. He found her when she ran off, and he was watching her for me when they were taken."

"It makes complete sense to me," Cooper said. "Blaine is just drawn to children. He's played music for the kids at the children's hospital since he was fourteen and a patient there himself." Kurt was about to question that tidbit of information, but Cooper barreled on. "He's a kindergarten teacher now, no surprise, and he's godfather to a couple of our friends' kids, which he takes to mean legally obligates him to take them out a few nights a month and spoil the hell out of them. It's not like he's a giant kid himself or anything, though he does have his moments, but he just seems to really understand and connect to them. I can guarantee that since the moment they were taken, Blaine's been completely focused solely on Elsa's needs and well-being. I'm sure he's figured out by now that Dave cannot be counted on to look out for her best interests."

Kurt tried his best but couldn't stop a disgusted snort from escaping. "Understatement of the fucking century," he muttered.

The two men were silent for a few moments. Kurt looked thoughtful. " I can't help but wonder if, by coming into our lives at that exact time, Blaine prevented something even worse from happening. If Elsa had been with me, Dave might've shot up half the store trying to get her from me. But because she and Blaine were in a deserted part of the store, he just took them quietly. So many more people could've been hurt..." he trailed off.

"That right there will be why Blaine will actually be 'okay' with being taken. He's so unselfish, so giving...I'm not sure how he got that way in our family where greed and vanity and gluttony runs rampant, but there he is. One of the most beautiful souls on this earth."

The phone rang, its bell startling Kurt and Cooper, but it was quickly answered by Burt in the other room. The two men looked at each other, unable to keep the hope from creeping into their minds, but the mood in the other room was far too quiet, and Burt returned to them far too soon for it to be any good news. Or bad news, for that matter.

"It was just the police checking in. No breaks in the case to report, but they're questioning anyone close to Karofsky to see if they have any clues where he could've taken them."

Kurt barked out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, good luck with that. Dave alienated pretty much anyone who gave even half a shit about him. If anyone had a clue, they would've been all too happy to turn him in long ago."

"Kurt, they're trying."

"I know, Dad, I just..." Kurt couldn't finish his sentence; the lump in his throat had grown too overwhelming to speak.

Cooper stretched out his arms and looked at Kurt, silently asking him if it was okay to touch him. When Kurt stepped forward, Cooper wrapped Kurt in a big bear hug.

"Blaine will make sure they get home, okay? He's gonna bring your daughter back, I just know it," he whispered in Kurt's ear. Then he let go of Kurt, entrusting him to his father, and left the house.

"Dad?" Kurt said. Burt turned to him and looked at him expectantly. "I'm still terrified for my little girl and for Blaine, but if Blaine is even a fraction the man Cooper seems to be, well, I'm finally feeling a little hope now."

"Me too, bud. I don't know how long it's gonna take, but I think everything's gonna be pretty close to okay by the time it's all over."


	7. Chapter 7

Blaine woke abruptly to the shrill peals of an old school alarm clock. The windows were so well covered that they did not let any light in, so the obnoxious timepiece was Blaine's only clue as to what time of day it actually was.

"Rise and shine, cocksucker," Dave said in a sing-song voice as he barged into the room, nearly stepping on the two in the pile of bedding on the floor.

Blaine allowed himself a quick roll of the eyes while he was still facing away from Dave. _When will he realize that calling me gay slurs sounds ridiculous coming from a man who is gay himself?_

"You rang?" Blaine grumbled sleepily.

"Don't give me any of your attitude," Dave said angrily. Blaine heard the click of the safety of a gun. "I still have this, you know, and I could still shoot you." Dave lowered his voice, mumbling. "Should've shot Kurt when I had the chance, too, and we wouldn't have this problem."

Shivers went down Blaine's spine. He wasn't terribly afraid of Dave's threats to his person anymore, especially since he was starting to believe those threats were mostly bullshit, but just the thought of Kurt being harmed freaked him out. He quickly peeked at the little girl lying next to him and gratefully noted that she was still asleep.

"So what are we up to today?" Blaine said conversationally, not expecting to get a peep out of Dave.

Dave glared at him, but to Blaine's surprise, he actually began to tell Blaine of his plans.

"Well, YOU won't be up to much of anything today. You're gonna stay here, and you're gonna take good care of my kid while I go out and meet with my guy who's gonna make it possible for me to disappear with her."

"And just what do you expect me to do with her all day? She's four - she has needs."

Dave grumbled. Not for the first time, this man was getting on his nerves. "You're a grown ass man. Figure it out."

"Don't you have _anything_ we can use? You said you would find something."

Dave began to long for a stiff drink or some painkillers for the headache he was rapidly developing.

"Jesus Christ, all right." Dave turned around and stomped back through the doorway of the bedroom he was holding them in, slamming the door behind him. Blaine could hear him loudly shuffling through things in the other room and tossing them aside when they weren't quite what he was looking for. Finally, the door swung open again and a few items were tossed at Blaine, almost hitting him in the head.

"Are you fucking happy now?"

Blaine glanced at the objects laying on the floor beside him. A half-empty spiral notebook with a crushed binding, a pink highlighter with the print almost completely worn off the barrel and which Blaine was pretty certain he would discover to be dry, a dull golf pencil, and a ratty souvenir deck of playing cards from a long defunct hotel and casino.

"Ec _sta_ tic," Blaine replied. Definitely not items one would find in his classroom at school, but he was a kindergarten teacher; making things work, especially with the paltry allowance the school gave him, was his specialty.

Dave set down a small box of foodstuffs next to the door. "Here's your next few meals," he said, giving the box a kick. "Make it last - I don't have much for supplies until I can get me and my daughter out of here."

"You and your daughter? What about me? Are you going to let me go when you leave?" Blaine asked.

"Oh, I'm sure I can find a real nice ditch to dump you in on our way out of town," Dave sneered. "I'm outta here. Door will be padlocked from the outside so don't get any bright ideas - there's no way you're getting out of here."

"And this?" Blaine raised his bound wrists to Dave as he had last night. Dave slipped his pocket knife out of his pocket and slit the tape.

"Is she awake?" Dave asked.

Blaine lifted the blanket that was still covering Elsa's tiny face. His heart broke when he saw her expression; her eyes pleaded with him not to say a word.

"Sleeping like a baby," he said. "Long day for a four year old yesterday."

Dave's face schooled itself back into a scowl. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again - it's all _his_ fault." He walked through the doorway and made to make his way out of the house. "If I see even one scratch on this door that wasn't there before I left, your ass is grass." He pulled the door shut, and Blaine could hear the clicks of the door lock and an additional padlock being placed on the door.

The front door of the little cabin slammed, and a little blonde head peeked over the edge of the blanket. "Is he gone?" Elsa said worriedly.

"Sounds like it," Blaine confirmed. He pulled the little girl into a tight bear hug, and she contently snuggled up with the man.

It felt good to Blaine. He always felt so honored when a child trusted him enough to want to be close to him. He realized Elsa's options at that moment were slim pickings, indeed, but nevertheless, he was happy to do all he could to deserve his trust.

"Blaine, I'm hungry," Elsa whined.

Blaine nodded. "Me too, sweetheart. Let's go see what's in our food box, shall we?"

Their faces fell when they viewed their selections. There was cereal with no milk and poptarts with no toaster. Blaine could see a few zipper baggies with PBJs intended to be their lunch, and a couple of bottles of room-temperature water rounded out their meager rations.

Elsa began to cry. "I want my daddy's cooking," she blubbered. "Daddy makes me eggs an' pancakes an' waffles, and Daddy says poptarts aren't good for anyone to eat, but Granpa sometimes gives them to me, and I like the strawberry ones but those ones are BROWN and I don't wanna eat them."

Blaine felt his calm and gentle kindergarten teacher side kick in. "Now Elsa, I know these things aren't what you want to eat. They're not my favorite foods either. But they are what we have, so we need to eat them. Sometimes we have to think about which is the better choice out of two not so great choices. I think I will choose eating food that I don't really like over having my tummy ache because I'm hungry. What choice are you going to make?" he asked.

Elsa looked over the food again as if she was willing another choice to magically appear in front of her. When nothing did, she asked hopefully, "Can I have one of the PBJs?"

"Well, you _could,_ " Blaine said, "but then you would have nothing left for your lunch."

Elsa's face fell. With a wrinkled up nose and a huff, she pulled one of the unappetizing brown poptarts from the box and started nibbling on it. Blaine grabbed a handful of dry cereal and popped it in his mouth. He noted it was a bit stale, but he make a conscious decision to ignore the flavorless meal.

It took Elsa twice as long as it normally would, but she finally munched her way through an entire poptart. She grudgingly admitted that it wasn't _that_ bad, but she wasn't anxious to have another serving any time soon.

All too soon, they finished their tiny portions and cleaned up their area. With only just a little time passed, Blaine began to wonder how they'd spend their day without truly being bored out of their minds. Blaine figured he would save the few raggedy playthings they were provided as long as possible and decided to try to talk to the little girl.

"So, Elsa - what kinds of things do you like to do?"

Elsa looked at him curiously - apparently not too many people actually asked her to speak before - and she began to tell him about her preschool and her friends. After ten minutes, the little girl was talking about her third favorite television show and was becoming more and more animated.

This was the part Blaine loved about his job the most: connecting with the children. So many people believed that kids the age of his students should be seen and not heard, and that they didn't have anything worthwhile to say, but Blaine knew that this assessment was dead wrong. Blaine enjoyed talking to little ones so much more than he liked talking to adults.

Most of the time, anyway. Kurt had fascinated him. Kurt was -

"Blaine, did you hear me?" the little girl asked. "Do YOU like Paw Patrol? I love doggies. Daddy says that maybe once we stop living with Gramma an' Granpa we can have one. But it might not be for awhile. Daddy says we don't have enough money to live somewhere else. But that's okay. I like seeing Gramma and Granpa every day."

Blaine smiled. "I LOVE doggies. I have one myself. He's a Labrador retriever, and his name is Fred."

Elsa giggled. "Fred's a funny name for a dog."

"Fred's a funny dog. Do you know what his favorite thing to do is?"

"No, what?" Elsa said, her attention glued to him.

"Well, Labradors are retrievers - do you know what that means?"

Elsa shook her head.

"Retrieving means to go get something. Some people use retrievers for hunting and train the dogs to go get the animals they shoot, but Fred - he doesn't like to retrieve birds. He likes to retrieve..."

Elsa slid a little closer to him in anticipation.

"What, Blaine?"

" _Underwear_ ," he whispered.

Elsa squealed with laughter. Blaine knew she would be entertained - underwear was just about the funniest thing most kids her age could possibly imagine.

" _REALLY?"_ she asked.

Blaine nodded seriously. "Yep. I have to keep my bedroom door shut when I'm not in there because sometimes he'll go in and get his head stuck in them and then when I come home from work he'll be walking around with a pair of underwear on his head."

Elsa could hardly contain herself. "Daddy would HATE that," she said. "You better not tell him your doggie does that because he might not let me get one then."

Blaine mimed zipping his lips shut. "My lips are sealed," he said with his mouth totally shut, as if he really couldn't separate his lips enough to speak properly.

Blaine cuddled the little girl as she calmed down from laughing so hard, though every once in awhile a wave of giggles would threaten to surface.

When she was finally no longer in danger of any more laughing fits, Blaine asked her another question. "What kinds of things does your Daddy like?"

Elsa thought for a moment. "He likes things to be neat and clean. He makes me clean up my room every day before bed." Elsa scrunched up her face; obviously her father's dedication to a tidy space wasn't her idea of fun. "He draws a lot and he has a sewing machine and sometimes he makes me pretty dresses to wear. Oh, and we sing! A lot. Daddy knows ALL the Disney songs."

Blaine looked at her in mock surprise. "ALL of them?"

"Yeah!" she replied, bouncing on Blaine's lap. "He sings me the Elsa song all the time. I like it when Daddy sings to me."

"What's your favorite song that your daddy sings?" Blaine wondered.

"I really like the Elsa song, but I think I like the bird song that Daddy sings the most."

"What bird song is that?"

Elsa's forehead wrinkled as if she was deep in thought. "It's about a black bird with broken wings and stunken eyes and I think Daddy says it's by The Bugs?" She looked up at Blaine for verification.

"The Beatles, honey. I think I know what song it is." Blaine sang a few bars of the song. "Is that it?"

But he didn't get an answer from the little girl. He looked down at her and his heart sank at the look on her face. Tears streamed down her rosy cheeks, and her lip quivered violently.

"Daddy sings it better. I want my Da-ddyyyyyyyy," she sobbed.

"I'm sorry, baby," Blaine said, trying to soothe the little girl as best he could, knowing that he wasn't what she really wanted.

Elsa cried quietly for awhile until she had cried herself to sleep. Once her breathing was slow and even, he decided to take the advice that usually was given to parents of newborn babies: sleep whenever they're asleep. Sleep would pass the time and cut down on the moments of boredom.

And Blaine had the feeling that there would be many, many moments of boredom in their immediate future.


	8. Chapter 8

Day two of "after" in the Hummel household started out a little more calmly than day one, but it still wasn't without what felt like a bucketful of tears. Carole and Burt let their son work out his emotions by himself and waited patiently downstairs in the kitchen with their cooling cups of coffee.

"Hi Dad, hey Carole," Kurt said in a soft, scratchy voice. His eyes were red and puffy, but they were dry. "Anything?"

"Nope," Burt said. "Police called with a no news update. They can't find anyone willing to talk."

"There's a shock," Kurt said drily. He settled down at the kitchen table in front of a plate of steaming scrambled eggs Carole placed in front of him, but he mostly made egg sculptures with his fork; his appetite had disappeared as soon as his daughter had, and he had a feeling it would probably be gone as long as she was. He downed his cup of coffee, though - SOMETHING was going to have to keep him going.

The small family sat silently around the kitchen table, all lost in their own thoughts. Over fifteen minutes went by without a peep from any of them when they were all startled to the sound of the doorbell. Kurt looked at his father in panic. Could this be the news they were waiting for?

Burt squeezed Kurt's shoulder firmly as he walked past him to open the door. "Try not to freak out until there's reason to, son," he said.

He tried to follow his father's advice, but found it was impossible. Don't freak out? Yeah right. Kurt Hummel was a professional freaker-outer, and his body was already crashing into full-on panic.

Burt returned to the kitchen with a uniformed police officer in tow. A man in civilian clothing followed behind him, but he wore a detective badge, so Kurt knew he must've been in charge of the investigation into his daughter's kidnapping.

"Kurt, this is Officer Roberts and Detective Douglas. They wanted to question you some more about Dave."

Kurt drew a deep breath. He knew he was going to be interrogated about his ex at some point, but he sure hadn't been looking forward to it. "Okay," he said quietly. He quickly cleared his breakfast dishes and gestured at a couple of seats at the table. "Sit down, please. Coffee?" He acted the perfect host, hoping to delay the dredging up of memories that much longer, but the men refused and he had no choice but to join them and allow their questioning to begin.

"So, Kurt - how long have you known Mr. Karofsky?"

Kurt explained their meeting in high school in detail. He made sure not to gloss over the fact that their relationship started out with bullying, like he usually did when telling their story to others. The officers filled page after page in their spiral bound notepads with tidbits of information. Any detail could be the one that got them closer to figuring out where Dave had taken Elsa and Blaine.

"Does he have any friends?" Detective Douglas asked.

Kurt pondered his question for a few moments before responding. "I'm not saying he doesn't have any," he said carefully, "but I'm pretty sure he let most of his relationships fall by the wayside once he married me. He never bothered to make time for his family, even though I knew his father was reasonably supportive of him. His mom left when he came out, though, so he no longer spoke with her." He paused to think a bit more. "He kept in contact with a couple of guys from the high school football team for awhile, mostly Azimio Adams, but for the most part he was especially eager to leave high school behind. He's on the road a lot for work, and he's always alone for that, visiting clients, so I don't _think_ there are any work friends to speak of, but I can't be sure."

The police questioned him about their daughter, the divorce, and any communal property that they might've had. Kurt answered their queries as best he could, but the whole processed served to remind him how much he _didn't_ know about the man he had spent several years of his life with.

Finally, after nearly two hours conversing with the officers, they closed their notebooks and bade him goodbye, shaking his hand as they left the home. Kurt shut the door behind him and leaned against the door, completely exhausted. It was incredible exactly how much talking about difficult times in his life took out of them, but he felt as if he had just come from an intense therapy session... or an intense workout. He trudged back into the kitchen where he found his father tidying up the kitchen table. Kurt collapsed into a chair and rested his elbows on the tabletop, cradling his aching head in his hands.

"Is there anything I can do?" his father asked.

"Yeah," Kurt mumbled through his fingers. "Kick Dave's ass when we find him."

Burt chuckled. "Gladly." He rifled through the contents of a kitchen cabinet and withdrew a bottle of ibuprofen. He shook out a few and placed them and an ice cold bottle of water in front of his son. "Why don't you take these and go lie down for a bit? We'll call you if anything happens, or for the next meal, whichever comes first."

Kurt did as his father suggested. After swallowing the pills, he rose from the table and caught his father in an embrace. "Thanks Dad. I don't know how I could get through this without you and Carole."

"Nonsense, son. You're tough. You'd do this if you had to, but since Carole and I are here, you never have to do this alone."

They stood in each other's arms for a few moments longer, and finally Kurt tore himself away from his father and trudged up the stairs to his room. A warm, soft bed never sounded so good.


	9. Chapter 9

It was three days later, three days since Dave had smuggled them to this tiny cabin presumably in the middle of nowhere, and Blaine and Elsa were going stir crazy.

Dave left them to their own devices during the day. He would come back to them in the late evening and feed them a barely edible dinner - Dave was an awful cook, but he didn't want Blaine helping him for fear Blaine would try to use the heat of the stove or the knives he used for food prep against him - and then attempt to bond with his daughter. Elsa, normally a relatively agreeable child from what Blaine had experienced, regressed into her "terrible" twos and threes and did everything she could to discourage any attention from Dave.

Blaine couldn't blame Elsa, really. For a man that Elsa had once called a father, Dave didn't know anything about his child. He had brought her a couple of books the other day, but they were board books with pictures. Blaine had found out quickly that Elsa knew her alphabet well and was able to read simple short stories by herself. She took offense to being given "baby books" and Dave began losing any respect she had left for him. His most recent attempt to play with her included a naked, dollar store Barbie knock off. He didn't even have one to play with himself, so they couldn't act out any scenes together or anything that children do when they are playing with others. The final straw was when the head of the poorly made doll popped off and bounced across the room. Elsa rose from the floor where they had been sitting and asked to be allowed back into the room where Blaine was locked up during the time Elsa and Dave were spending together. Defeated, Dave escorted her back to the room.

Not for the first time did Dave question himself as to whether trying to take Elsa away from her daddy and raise her himself was a good idea after all.


	10. Chapter 10

Kurt sat at the drafting table that was set up for his use in his father's office, doodling aimlessly on a piece of scratch paper. He had thought maybe designing a few outfits for a future clothing line might take his mind off things, it had the opposite effect: designer's block was in full force that day.

He tossed down his pencil on the table with a frustrated sigh. He pushed himself up off his chair and left the room. Thinking maybe a small snack might help, he trotted down the stairs to the kitchen, but as soon as he hit the bottom step, the door range. His heart instantly racing, he slowly opened the door.

"Cooper? Hi! Won't you come in?" Kurt invited, standing back to allow his guest to come inside.

"Hey Kurt," he said. "How you holding up?"

"Barely. Everything reminds me of her. You?"

Cooper nodded knowingly. "Same. Blaine and I don't live together, but we see each other often enough where it is almost like we do. His presence, or lack thereof, is immediately noticeable."

"I'm sorry. It's awful - I wouldn't wish this on anyone." Kurt gestured to the living room, silently offering Cooper a seat. "So, what brings you here?"

Cooper sat quietly for a moment before responding. "Honestly, I'm sick of the well wishers."

Kurt flopped dramatically onto the sofa and groaned. "Oh man, I hear ya. If I hear _one more reference_ to God's will..."

"And Blaine and I are not religious so all the 'I'll pray for you's mean - "

"Jack shit," Kurt interrupted. The men laughed lightly together, the first lighthearted moment either of them had had since the whole ordeal began.

"I'm so damn tired of it," Kurt said. "Prayers are all well and good if you believe in that stuff, but I don't. And they're not going to locate Elsa and Blaine. Where are the people offering to go out and search? Where are the people offering to put up posters or ask questions or do _anything_ concrete that will help bring them back?"

"Nowhere," Cooper confirmed. "If it's not happening to them, it doesn't exist, it's not important. It feels like my brother means nothing to anyone but me, and it's a crime. He's done so much for others and they can't be bothered to lift a fucking finger for him."

Kurt got up and moved toward the loveseat Cooper was sitting on. He sat down next to him and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He means a _lot_ to me," he whispered. "He's keeping my whole entire world safe right now, and when they come home, I'm never going to be able to pay him back."

Kurt rose from the loveseat and silently moved to the kitchen, giving Cooper a moment to take a few deep breaths and allow his anger to subside a bit. He filled a few glasses with ice water and returned to the living room and sat them carefully on the table next to Cooper. Kurt took a seat across from Cooper.

"Tell me more about him?" Kurt asked.

"What do you want to know?"

"Anything. Whatever you want to tell me. I know, tell me something about him that makes you smile."

Cooper grinned. "Just the fact that he's my brother makes me smile. I got lucky in that department. But okay. Being his brother means I've got a lot of dirt on him. Um... okay. There was this time when he was in high school, he got the idea that he needed to serenade a guy who worked at the Gap..."

Kurt paid rapt attention to the stories Cooper was telling him. Cooper was a wonderful storyteller; he had a knack for details and he painted pictures so vividly in Kurt's mind that it felt like he had actually been there . As the afternoon went on, the stories got sillier and Kurt and Cooper laughed more and more. He was starting to feel so close to Cooper, and to Blaine as well, through his reminiscing. A niggling little thought in the back of Kurt's head made him feel a tiny bit guilty for laughing so much when his daughter was missing, but he tried to ignore it as much as possible. He had the right to see the bright side wherever and whenever it could be found.

"Oh my gosh, Kurt," Cooper said through his laughter. "I can't wait till they get home and you and Blaine can really meet properly. You are gonna absolutely love him!"

Kurt couldn't help but think that perhaps he already did.


	11. Chapter 11

After about the third day of their captivity inside the abandoned cabin, Blaine had started keeping track of the days that went by. He had found a soft spot in one of the plaster interior walls, and with a fingernail, he was able to scratch hash marks into it. Blaine had been led to believe that the cabin was merely a stopping point, a halfway to "somewhere" point, but when he had two complete sets of five marks on the wall, he dared ask Dave what the holdup was.

With the glare Dave directed toward Blaine, Blaine figured there was no way he would get an answer to his question, and in fact should probably lay low for a bit after asking. In a move that completely shocked Blaine, though, Dave offered up a response.

"My arrangements have... fallen through because my contact has gone soft," he grumbled. "Seems Kurtsie has got your faces plastered all over the place from here to Timbuktu and little Ricky doesn't want to have jack all to do with repaying the favor he owes me from years back. And seeing as how _my_ face is ALSO all over the damn place, it's a little more difficult to get shit done." Dave slumped against the wall, and Blaine could finally see some of the chinks in Dave's armor beginning to show.

Blaine inched a bit farther away from Dave and mumbled, "You could just let us go," but instantly he knew it was the exact wrong thing to say.

"NO I CAN'T!" Dave roared. Elsa, who had been in the bathroom brushing her teeth while the two men were talking, dropped her toothbrush and yelped, absolutely terrified by the rage in the man's voice. "If I just give up now, I will never see my daughter again! He can't have her!"

"Dave, you're scaring her," Blaine scolded him, and he went into the bathroom to try to reverse some of the damage their captor had just done.

" _Shit_ ," Dave whispered. It was finally starting to sink into his thick skull that Elsa was going to be a tough sell. He didn't know if he was capable of making her believe that he could be a daddy to her.

After a good five minutes of mostly unsuccessful attempts to calm the little girl down, Blaine emerged from the bathroom and addressed Dave.

"She needs to get out of this room. She's going stir crazy and becoming depressed from being in here. Quite frankly, so am I, but since you don't give a shit about me, at least think of Elsa. We've run out of paper to draw on, new songs to sing, new stories to tell, everything. We need a change of scenery."

Dave remained silent. He thought for a few minutes, and then he sighed with resignation. "Okay, fine. You two can hang out in the main room for the day while I'm out trying to figure out who the hell I can trust to help me. "

Dave turned to leave the room, and Blaine immediately tried to follow him. "Not so fast. I'm gonna have to escape proof the place first. Get back in there - I will let you know when I'm done." He turned and slammed the door behind him, and Blaine could hear the clicking of locks from behind it.

Elsa peeked her tear-streaked face out of the bathroom. "Blaine, is he going away again?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, baby. He's going away again today. But guess what? He's going to let us out into the other room while he's gone! Maybe we'll find something fun to do!"

Later, after Dave had allowed Blaine and Elsa into the main room and left the premises, Blaine regretted his earlier enthusiasm. There was _nothing_ redeeming about the main room, either. It was just as plain, gloomy, and devoid of things to occupy their minds. It was a different set of walls to stare at, and that was about it.

Oh, and an old, ratty, clawed up couch. Blaine looked at it as if he could practically see the diseases congregating on it, but regardless, he sat down on it and patted the cushion next to him, inviting Elsa to have a seat with him. At the very least, Blaine was happy to finally have something with a little back support, anyway.

Elsa frowned at Blaine's gesture, obviously not wanting to have anything to do with the disgusting piece of furniture.

"It's okay, sweetie, it's not going to bite you," Blaine reassured her, but it felt like a lie. He'd seen cleaner garbage heaps than that sofa - there was every chance that something in the couch COULD bite her.

Elsa tentatively sat down on the couch, perching on the edge and ensuring that as little of her rear ended touched it as she could manage.

"Good girl," Blaine praised.

He had to admit, if he didn't think about it too hard, it was a lot better than sitting on the floor all the time.

"Well, Elsa? What should we do today?" Blaine asked, hoping the child's active imagination would come up with something new that they hadn't thought of before.

Elsa shrugged. "Dunno," she mumbled. She sat on the couch, not making eye contact, not offering up ideas, and not wanting to interact at all. Blaine was beginning to worry even more about the status of her mental health.

Blaine wracked his brain for ideas. He had had a lot of experience entertaining little kids, but it was usually en masse. He didn't have the luxury of interacting with his pupils one on one often, so most of his ideas consisted of things that just didn't work with two people - musical chairs, Simon Says, Red Rover, etc.

In desperation, he decided to revisit a topic they had discussed the day after they had been taken. "Tell me about your daddy?"

Elsa's reaction was mixed. On one hand, she missed her daddy so much she wanted to talk about him. On the other hand, she missed her daddy so much it was painful to even think about him.

"My daddy is the best daddy in the whole wide _world,_ " Elsa started. "Every day he sings me awake. He says before I was born he wanted to sing for people in a _big_ city called New York." She scrunched up her face trying to remember a detail. "They have something there called... Bad way?"

Blaine grinned. "Broadway, honey. It's a place in the city where they have a bunch of theatres where they perform plays and musicals. Do you know what a musical is?"

"Little Mermaid!" Elsa exclaimed excitedly. "Daddy says a musical is a play where they sing a lot of the words instead of saying them."

"Very good!" Blaine praised.

"I think Daddy would make the best Disney prince," Elsa stated. "But not Prince Hans, he was mean to Anna and Daddy wouldn't be mean to anyone ever!"

"No," Blaine agreed, "I don't think he would. What else can you tell me about your daddy?"

"Um... he draws a lot of clothes. He's a fashion, de-, de-, de-... deslimer!" she exclaimed triumphantly.

It took everything Blaine had in him not to burst out laughing at the proud child. He decided to ignore her mistake. "Does he make the clothes he draws?"

"Sometimes! He made me a princess dress once. But it was Cinderella, not Elsa. But Daddy says just because my name is Elsa doesn't mean I can't be anyone else."

"Your daddy's a smart man," Blaine said. He was enjoying the innocent insight into the man he was intrigued by. He felt like a teenage boy, crushing hard. "You can be anyone or any _thing_ you want to be, and don't let anyone tell you you can't, okay?"

"Okay!" Elsa jumped off the sofa onto the floor. "Thinking about Daddy makes me want to dance, Blaine!" Elsa began to do an adorable little shimmy on the floor in front of him.

Blaine got up with her, glad she was finally starting to show interest in something. "Okay, what kind of dance shall we do?"

Elsa put her finger to her lips and began to weigh her options. "I know! Daddy said he learned this dance when he was in school. He said it was made up by someone named Yon-say."

The little girl bounced to an empty spot on the floor and began to swivel her hips and point to her fingers. "Single ladies put a ring on it! If you like me you better ring it oh oh oh!" she sang. She then slapped her butt twice and began to strut around the room.

Blaine couldn't hold back. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry tears of joy because the girl's performance was honestly the most precious thing he had ever seen in his life. He opted for both, and he joined Elsa on the dance floor.

He would never admit to it, except to Kurt now that he knew _he_ knew the dance, but Blaine had every bit of choreography for the Single Ladies song memorized. He knew the correct words to the song as well, but he much preferred Elsa's version.

He also couldn't help imagining the lithe figure he had seen briefly at the store performing some of the more suggestive moves...

"Single ladies put a ring on it! If you like me you better ring it oh oh - "

Blaine was cut off by a bloodcurdling scream. He looked at the little girl beside him, who was as white as a sheet, as she howled in pain. She held up a foot in the air, standing like a flamingo. The foot was covered in fresh blood.

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god," Blaine chanted as he scooped up the child into his arms. "Sweetie what happened?" He didn't get an answer; Elsa appeared to be going into shock.

"No no sweetie, stay with me, please!" He gently laid the injured girl on the sofa, not caring now about its condition. He looked around, hoping to find something, _anything_ that he could use as a bandage to stop the bleeding. The sheets on their bed were out - they had been slept in far too many times and would likely send germs into the wound rather than keep them out. The towels in the bathroom were all large and too thick to tear. Finally, Blaine settled on his shirt. Luckily it was well loved enough that there was a place in the seam that was beginning to form a hole. Blaine forced his fingers through the hole and began to pull, successfully tearing the shirt into strips. When the shirt was as close to a proper wrapping as he was going to get, he picked up Elsa again and carried her to the sink.

The stream of water coming from the faucet was icy cold and caused Elsa to violently flinch in pain, but Blaine insisted that her foot stayed in the water until it ran clear. The natural numbing that the cold provided was a plus as well.

When the water finally ran clear, Blaine set Elsa back on the sofa and began to wrap her foot. The puncture was deep, but Blaine had determined that it would close up on its own without stitches. When she was covered and settled, he scoured the cabin for first aid materials, namely a disinfectant or an antibiotic ointment, but he came up empty handed; there was nothing even slightly resembling first aid supplies anywhere to be found.

Elsa whimpered in pain on the couch, tears streaking down her face and calling out desperately for her father. Blaine's heart broke hearing her cries, but he could do nothing except be there for the little girl. Before he sat, he noticed out of the corner of his eye the pool of darkening blood on the floor. Upon closer examination, he found a nail sticking up out of the floorboards.

A very rusty nail.

His heart sank, knowing what the combination of such a dirty piece of metal and no disinfectants could mean for the little girl.

Blaine sat carefully next to the child on the couch and pulled her into his arms. He was absolutely exhausted, the day's trauma added onto the ongoing effects of their captivity taking a huge toll on him. He knew he should sleep, but he couldn't shut down his mind enough to drop off. All he could do was wait and pray that what _could_ happen to the little girl that he cared so much about as a result of her injury didn't become a reality.


	12. Chapter 12

"Kurt, you HAVE to get out of the house sometime," Cooper urged his new friend.

"No, I really don't, Cooper," Kurt replied tersely.

"C'mon Kurt! It's not like I'm asking you to get rip-roaring drunk and dance on the tables or anything. Just come out with me and forget your problems for a couple of hours."

Cooper's words struck exactly the wrong chord with Kurt and he flew off the handle. "How _dare_ you refer to MY DAUGHTER being KIDNAPPED as a ' _problem'_! In case you had forgotten, you prick, your BROTHER was kidnapped too! And PARDON ME if I feel like going out and partying while they're gone is an insult to their situation! You should be _ashamed,_ Cooper!"

Kurt was panting by the end of his tirade. Cooper stood back, feeling small after being dressed down. He reminded himself to never, EVER get on Kurt's bad side ever again. Ever.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," he apologized. "I never, ever meant to downplay the seriousness of the situation. I just... the stress is getting to us both. I only meant that we're not any good to either one of them if we push ourselves to the point of mental breakdown. I just wanted us to go out, maybe have a drink or two, see some of your friends that have been patiently waiting for you to resurface, and look at something other than these four walls. You need to take care of yourself so that Elsa will have a healthy parent to come back to."

Kurt hated to admit it, but Cooper had a point. Still, he was hesitant to leave the house for anything other than search-related business.

"But what if they - "

"Kurt, if anything happens, they'll call you. They'll call me. Everyone who could possibly ever need to contact us has our cell numbers, our emails, our families' numbers, our friends' numbers - hell, they could find us by carrier pigeon or smoke signals if they had to. Please?"

Kurt considered his request. "Okay. But no clubs. It can have music and a bar, but both must be rather sedate so I can hear my phone. And I'm not getting drunk. Just one or two to take the edge off."

"SOLD!" Cooper cheered. "I'll have Rachel and Mercedes and Tina meet us there! We can pick up Elliott on the way."

"Wait - how do you know how to get a hold of those guys?"

"They've been calling your dad since the day it happened. He gave me the stack of phone numbers yesterday and begged me to get your ass out of here." Cooper patted Kurt on the butt and pointed up the stairs. "Now shoo! Go shower and put on something that hasn't been worn for five days straight!"

Kurt had no energy, let alone desire, to dress to his normal nines that evening, but he managed to at least grab something that he didn't consider "dad clothes" from the back of his closet. What normally fit like it was painted on was a bit loose, since his appetite was pretty much completely gone since the abduction. He looked in a mirror and declared himself "good enough" and presented himself to Cooper.

Cooper knew that his friend was dressed far down from usual, but he was glad to see him dressed in actual clothing and smelling normal again, so he quickly led Kurt to his car and sped off to a local restaurant.

Before Kurt knew it, he was being surrounded by his best female friends. They held him in such a long, tight group hug that Cooper, standing just off to the side of the group, began to feel like a fifth wheel. Tina, ever perceptive, noticed Cooper's awkwardness and pulled him into the group.

Elliott arrived just as they finally managed to let Kurt go. Clapping him on the shoulder, Elliott said, "Good to see you out and about, Kurt."

"Guys, this is Cooper, Blaine's brother." Kurt pointed to each person individually as he made introductions. "Mercedes, Tina, Rachel, and Elliott, meet Cooper. We've been hanging out since Elsa and Blaine were taken."

Eyebrows were raised, and Kurt was quick to say, "No, no, no - we're just friends who can empathize with one another. Cooper's straight."

"But Blaine's not!" Cooper sang quietly.

"Shhhh!" Kurt hissed. He saw the looks on his girlfriends' faces, but he refused to say a word about the subject.

But nothing could erase the rosy cheeks and slight starry-eyed smile from his face.

"So he got soooooo drunk at this party that he decided playing Spin the Bottle with a whole shit ton of girls was the greatest idea in the world," said Cooper enthusiastically. "He spun that bottle like it was his job and of course it landed on the girl from earlier that night that hadn't picked up on the fact that he's gay. He got up, plopped himself in this girl's lap, and planted a big, long wet one on her, right in the kisser. Then when he was finished slobbering on her, he turned on the karaoke machine and started singing 'I Kissed A Girl' like the badass bitch that he thought he was. By that time, Wes had finally managed to haul him out of the party and to my place, where we poured him into bed and he was out like a light. In the morning, he determined that while he had indeed kissed a girl the night before, he was rather certain that he did not, in fact, like it, and to this day he can no longer stand the taste of cherry Chapstick."

The group roared with laughter. Even Kurt, who hadn't really felt much like laughing anymore, couldn't help but grin. Obviously when they went out, he'd have to watch Blaine's liquor intake so the only person he'd be kissing would be Kurt.

Wait.

What?

Immediately Kurt felt guilty, and the smile dropped from his face. He really shouldn't be thinking about anything but getting his daughter - and Blaine - home, safe and sound. There was no time for romantic thoughts when the object of his affection wasn't even there to receive him.

Kurt stood up abruptly, jiggling the table and nearly knocking over his chair.

"Kurt, are you okay?" Rachel asked.

"I have to go. Um, to the bathroom, I mean. I'll be right back."

Before anyone could say another word, Kurt fled in the direction of the restrooms. He stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink and was a bit disgusted with the man looking back at him. The man in the mirror looked as if he was having too much fun considering the circumstances, and he resolved that until his daughter came back home, he would be all business. Everything else could wait.

Kurt splashed a bit of cold water on his face and marched back into the dining room with resolve and determination. His friends glanced at him and were disappointed to note that Happy Kurt had gone and Stoic Kurt was firmly back in place.

"Kurt, what - "

"I'm fine," Kurt interrupted. "I just - "

Kurt was just about to sit down and rejoin the group when he was cut off by the ringing of his cell phone. The ringtone was the generic one; everyone who called him had their own unique song that reminded him of them individually, so to hear a stock tone was a bit disconcerting.

"I should probably take this," he said, moving a couple of steps back from the table so he didn't disturb the ongoing conversation.

"Kurt Hummel," he said by way of greeting.

A few minutes later, you could practically hear a pin drop. The occupants watched as the color quickly drained from Kurt's face, and then his phone clattered to the floor. Elliott, who was sitting closest to where Kurt was standing, narrowly managed to catch Kurt before he could meet the same fate as his phone.

"Kurt!" Rachel screamed. "What is it?"


	13. Chapter 13

"Blaine?"

"Mmmm go 'way sleepy," Blaine mumbled. He rolled over and burrowed his face into the barely adequate pillow beneath his head.

"Blaine!" a tiny voice called, more urgently this time. He felt a slight pressure on his shoulder, and then felt himself being shaken. "Blaine wake up!"

"Whaaaa?" he demanded, irritated.

"Blaine, I don't feel good," whimpered Elsa.

Finally the fogginess cleared from his head and he began to actually understand what he was hearing. He sat straight up in bed and fumbled for the light switch, flicking it a few times before he managed to bathe the room in a weak beam of light.

"Elsa, sweetie? What's wrong?"

The little girl burrowed into Blaine's side. "'m hot," she whined.

Blaine placed his palm gently on the child's forehead. "Oh god, you're burning up!" he yelped. Quickly, he threw away the blankets and uncovered Elsa's bandaged foot. He peeled back the layers and gasped at what he saw.

The puncture wound, though scabbed over, was an angry red and puffy. It felt even hotter to the touch than Elsa's forehead, and worse yet, there were red streaks crawling across her skin.

There was no doubt about it - the foot was infected, and it was bad.

"DAVE!" Blaine shouted. He jumped up from the floor and began pounding his fists on the door leading from their tiny bedroom to the main part of the cabin. "DAVE!"

Blaine screamed and created a general racket until he could hear the locks on the other side of the door creak and turn. Finally the door was yanked open and Blaine almost fell through the doorway on top of Dave.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck is wrong with you? Can't a guy get any goddamn sleep around here?"

"It's Elsa," Blaine panted, out of breath from panic and nearly beating the door down. "She's sick. She could die."

"Oh quit being so damn dramatic, Anderson. She's a kid. Kids get sick. I'll get her a Tylenol and you can put her back to bed." Dave turned around and tried to leave the room, but in a move completely uncharacteristic of him, Blaine grabbed Dave's shirt collar and roared, "NO!"

Surprised, Dave turned around and stared at Blaine in silence. Blaine returned the stare, a bit shocked himself.

"Don't. TOUCH. Me," Dave said menacingly.

"I'm sorry!" Blaine apologized in a voice a few notches higher than usual. "I mean... Look, Dave, this is not a joke or dramatics or anything. Elsa hurt her foot on a rusty nail today. I tried to clean it up but we have no antibiotics or disinfectants or anything. And now it's infected."

"I got some Neosporin or something in my coat - I'll go grab it - " Again Dave tried to walk away, and again Blaine reactively put his hand on the larger man to stop him.

"Dave, it's past that point." Blaine doggedly dragged the other man over to where his daughter lie uncomfortably on the bed. He picked up the child's foot and pointed at the wound. "See how swollen and red this is? See the streaks? Feel her forehead."

Dave obediently leaned down and placed his hand on Elsa's forehead, and he jerked back in surprise at the heat radiating from the little girl.

"All the signs point to blood poisoning, Dave. We have to get her medical attention."

"I can't," Dave said. "They'll find her. He'll take her back and then I'll never see her again."

"Would you rather never see her again because you're an ass and you deserve it, or would you rather never be ABLE to see her again because she's DEAD?" Blaine spat harshly.

Dave recoiled, Blaine's words feeling like a slap to his face. He knew Blaine was right; they couldn't help Elsa there. He watched his daughter shift around on the bed uncomfortably, tears obscuring her crystal blue eyes. Even though his attempts at parenting her the last few days had fallen flat, he felt like maybe if he had the time he could make amends.

But he didn't have the time. The little girl was suffering, and he knew it was up to him to make the right decision.

 _"God, I really am an asshole if I actually had to think about whether or not to get her to a hospital,_ " Dave thought to himself.

Blaine stared at Dave, his eyes pleading with him to choose Elsa's wellbeing.

"Papa, _please,_ " Elsa begged, and the little sliver of Dave's conscience that was still present gave in.

"Okay," he acquiesced. "But you're leaving this place same as you got here. Go get the blanket."

With Elsa in Blaine's arms and their faces again obscured by the same blanket they had arrived under, Dave loaded the two up into the vehicle parked outside and sped away.

The ride was excruciatingly long; Blaine must've been knocked out even longer than he had realized on the trip there. He tried to estimate how many miles away from home they were judging by his best guess of their speed and how long he thought it should take them to travel a mile, but he gave up that process fairly quickly since they kept slowing down and speeding back up again. The only thing Blaine could determine was that they were on a road that went directly through many small towns. Which was pretty much every single state highway in Ohio.

They were getting closer to home. They had to be, because the farther they went, the more agitated Dave became. He began to mumble profusely, and his fingers tapped a steady beat on the steering wheel. Blaine couldn't blame him; it wouldn't be long before he and Elsa were free and Dave was taken into custody by the police.

Suddenly, the brakes screeched and the SUV swerved. It was all Blaine could do not to roll right over Elsa in the back. They came to an abrupt stop and Blaine was thrown into the side of the vehicle with a thud.

"You okay, sweetie?" Blaine whispered to the little girl.

"Uh huh," she confirmed. "What's going on?"

"I don't - "

"Get out of the car," Dave ordered, jerking open the back door. He grabbed hold of Blaine's ankle and yanked him backward, causing him to land almost flat on his back into the soil below.

"Ooof!" he grunted. The blanket was no longer covering Blaine's head, so he took a moment to look around. "Where are we? I thought we were going to the hospital."

"You are."

"But we're at least a mile outside of town!" Blaine protested.

"Guess you'll just have to walk, then. Do you honestly think I'm stupid? I'm not just going to waltz into town, practically gift-wrapped, and present myself to the police! As soon as you and the kid are on your way, I'll be on mine."

Dave gently lifted his daughter out of the car, wrapped her up tightly in the blanket, and handed her to Blaine. He tried to think of something to say to her that didn't make him sound like even more of an asshole than he already was, but he couldn't. He merely kissed her on her scalding hot forehead and stepped away.

"Hup two, fag! Sooner you get going, the sooner she gets a doctor." Without any further comment or fanfare, Dave spun around on his feet, got back in the car, and sped away.

Blaine glanced down at the precious cargo nestled in his arms and noted the beads of sweat forming on her forehead despite the chill in the air. He knew he was out of time and had to get moving. Ever so delicately, he shifted her into the best position for carrying and set off toward town.

Even with them being closer to two and a half miles outside of Lima, Blaine managed to make record time transporting Elsa to Lima General. The little girl didn't weigh much, but Blaine's muscles were aching and he knew he'd be sore for days afterward. But the pain didn't stop him from marching triumphantly through the automatic doors of the emergency room and saying, "My name is Blaine Anderson, and this is Elsa Hummel. I believe you're looking for us."


	14. Chapter 14

Cooper shot to Kurt's side. "Kurt? Is everything okay? Did you - "

"They're alive," Kurt whispered. "They're okay."

A great cheer rose from the occupants of their table. A server rushed to them to see what the commotion was all about, and she was quickly informed of the situation. She was delighted to hear the news and comped their bill so they could leave the restaurant that much sooner.

Cooper whooped and dragged Kurt out to the car. Kurt snapped out of his fog just enough to climb into the passenger seat and buckle up before Cooper took off, tires squealing.

"Where we going?" he demanded.

"Lima General," Kurt replied.

"Wow - they've been that close all this time?"

"I don't... I don't know. I kind of got the impression they were dropped there." Kurt began to recount the phone conversation to Cooper. "But Cooper, Elsa's sick," he said, voice breaking.

"Oh god, Kurt, why didn't you say so earlier? How bad is it?"

"I don't know - they mentioned antibiotics and fever and possible sepsis, and I just don't know. It was all a whirlwind in my mind and I was stuck way back on 'we've got them.'"

Cooper reached over the dash and grabbed Kurt's hand in a comforting gesture. "It's gonna be okay, Kurt. She's in the hands of the good guys now, and they're not going to let us down." Cooper pulled into the hospital parking lot and drove right up to the door. "Go on, find your girl. Tell Blainey I'll be right there, 'cause I KNOW he's going to be right there with Elsa until he can turn her over safely to you."

"Thank you, Cooper, I - "

"There'll be time for all that later. Now shoo! Go!" Cooper practically threw Kurt out of his car and sped off, out of sight before Kurt could even register in his head that he had left.

Shaking his head, he trotted up to the emergency room doors where he was met by members of the media.

"Mr. Hummel!" one shouted, and another stuck a microphone in his face and asked question after question, rapid-fire style, that Kurt didn't have a hope of understanding. A door off to the side of the main entrance opened and a uniformed police officer came out.

"This way, Mr. Hummel," he said, and he put himself between Kurt and the reporters so that Kurt could escape them quickly.

" _Thank you,_ " Kurt sighed.

"My pleasure, sir," the officer replied. "Now if you'll follow me, I'll - "

"KURT!" a familiar voice shouted.

Kurt immediately jerked his head in the direction of the voice. "DAD!" He ran into the outstretched arms of his father, tears beginning to stream down his face. The men embraced, both outwardly crying.

"It's okay, Kurt. It's okay. She's okay, she'll be fine," Burt said, rubbing Kurt's upper back soothingly.

"Dad, what's wrong with her? They said infection on the phone, but I was so overwhelmed that I didn't really absorb anything after that."

"It's okay, Kurt. She had a bad infection after stepping on a nail, but they're pumping her full of antibiotics now and she'll be as good as new. Physically, anyway."

"How is she otherwise?" Kurt asked fearfully.

"She's drained. She's confused, for sure. She's a bright little girl but she doesn't understand why her papa took her from her daddy and told her she'd never see him again. But she'll be okay. A heaping helping of her Daddy's love will go a long way."

"Can I see her now?"

"Sure, kiddo, let's go," Burt said, leading his son down a long hallway.

"She's not alone right now, is she?" Kurt worried.

"No, no, Carole and Blaine are in there with her."

"Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed. "Dammit, I did it again! I forgot about him." He wanted to slap himself.

"Calm down, Kurt. He's fine. Not a scratch on him. Elsa won't let him leave her sight. From what I hear, the doctors wanted to take Blaine to another room to check him out but she screamed her little head off and they decided to wait until you got here to distract her. But don't worry - it's only a formality. There doesn't seem to be a thing wrong with him. A little hungry maybe, but he's good."

Kurt let out a deep sigh. "Thank goodness."

The two men stopped at a door in what was obviously a children's ward. Burt stepped back to allow his son to enter the room first. Kurt stepped through the doorway and was greeted by the sight of a little girl, dwarfed by a huge bed, with tubes and wires attached to her small hands.

But all he could see was his little girl. Finally.

"Elsa!" Kurt called.

Elsa's eyes shot open. "DADDYYYYYYYYYYY!" she squealed. She moved to try to get out of bed, but Blaine, who had been sitting wearily at the side of her bed, reactively put out a hand to stop her.

"No, no, sweetie. The doctor said you had to stay in the bed, remember? You can't get your medicine to make you better if you get up."

"Oh yeah," she said. "Sorry Blaine."

"It's okay, Elsa. Just remember for next time, okay?"

Kurt's heart melted at the easy rapport Blaine had with his daughter. He couldn't help but see how easy it would be to integrate him into their lives, and -

Wait.

He hardly knew this man.

Yet he felt like he knew everything he needed to know just by watching him interact with the little girl.

"Hi Blaine," Kurt said.

"Hi Kurt," Blaine replied. "Look, I'll just get out of your hair now, I know you're anxious to be with your daughter."

"No, Blaine, you don't have to leave. You're welcome to stay," Kurt tried to tell him, but it was too late. Blaine had disappeared.

While Kurt was able to hold his baby for the first time in weeks, Cooper was finally able to hold his baby brother.

"It is _so_ good to see you, Coop. I'd started to wonder if I ever would again," Blaine confided.

"Don't ever think that again," Cooper said seriously. "I will always find you. I will walk to the ends of the Earth for you, kiddo, and I think you know that."

"The Earth is round, Big Brother," Blaine teased. "But yeah, I know that. And I'd do the same for you."

"Is this gonna be one big ol' 'I Love You Man' moment?"

"Let's not and say we did. We're in public, after all."

"Like that's ever stopped us!" Cooper grabbed his little brother and proceeded to give him a noogie.

"COOOOOOOP!" Blaine whined.

"I love you, man," Cooper said, throwing his arm around Blaine's shoulder.

"I love you too, man," Blaine replied.


	15. Chapter 15

An hour later, Elsa was asleep, and her room was beginning to empty out. Kurt intended to spend the night with his daughter, but he was too wired from the day's events to even think about sleep just yet. He kissed Elsa's forehead, wishing her a good night and sweet dreams. He slipped out of the room and quietly closed the door.

Burt and Carole had gone home not long before, as had Cooper after promising to visit again the next day, and the hallway was relatively empty.

Except for Blaine.

"Kurt, hi! How are you?"

"Hold out your arms," Kurt ordered.

"Uh, what?" Blaine said, confused.

"Hold out your arms," Kurt repeated.

Blaine slowly lifted his arms up in the air, as if he wasn't sure he was doing it correctly. When his arms were parallel with the floor, Kurt strode forward confidently, right into the space between them.

Kurt wrapped his own arms around Blaine's torso and rested his head on Blaine's shoulder. Surprised at the gesture, Blaine hesitantly wrapped his arms around Kurt in return. The two men stood in an embrace in the middle of the hospital corridor for a long time, not paying attention to their surroundings, and their surroundings not paying attention to them, either.

"I don't know how I can ever begin to thank you for everything you've done for Elsa," Kurt began.

"Go out on a date with me?" Blaine blurted out. Kurt pushed away from Blaine and held him at arms' length, not sure he had heard the man correctly.

"What?

"Oh crap," Blaine said. "That was wildly inappropriate. Forget I said anything for now." He pulled away from Kurt and began to retreat down the hall.

"No. I don't want to forget," Kurt called out.

Blaine turned around with a big smirk on his face. "I did say, _for now,_ " he replied flirtatiously, and he disappeared.

Kurt held his hand over his rapidly beating heart, his flushed cheeks and gooey expression betraying his head-over-heels crush on the man. He had no idea what to expect from _for now._

But he knew he couldn't _wait_ to find out.


	16. Chapter 16

Several days later, Kurt had just put Elsa down for a nap. They had finally celebrated Finn's birthday that morning, and Elsa was exhausted. She was much better, but she was still feeling the effects of the infection and the ordeal she had been through.

Just as he had reached the bottom of the steps, he heard a soft knock on the door. Curious, Kurt moved to open it, only to be greeted by a huge bouquet of roses.

Roses with sneakered feet.

The flowers shifted to reveal a smiling Blaine behind them.

"Oh my gosh, Blaine!" Kurt exclaimed. "It's so good to see you! At least, what I can see of you from behind this embarrassingly large bouquet of roses."

Blaine grinned. "How's Elsa?"

"She's doing good! Tired, but we expected that. Would you like to see her? She's napping but I know she wouldn't mind waking up for you. Here, let me go get her." Kurt spun on his feet and made to run back upstairs to fetch his daughter.

Blaine grabbed Kurt by the shoulder to prevent him from leaving the room. "No, Kurt. I mean, I'd love to see Elsa, but I really came to see you."

"Really?" Kurt said shyly.

"Yeah." Blaine blushed, and Kurt fell hard for him. Again. "I've been so interested in you since the moment I saw you. You're breathtaking, and all the amazing things your daughter had to say about you made me want to get to know you just that much more. I already feel as if I've known you all my life, and I just want to make that a reality. I'm hoping this is a more appropriate setting for this question - will you go out with me?"

Kurt smiled the biggest smile he had smiled in a long, long time. "I thought you'd never ask. Again. I have to admit, I feel the same way. I have to warn you, though, Cooper's told me some stories. But don't worry, you'll have your chance to refute them."

Blaine groaned. "Well, turnabout is fair play. Elsa's told me a few stories, too." He smirked at Kurt, and Kurt's face grew blood red.

"Oh my god, she didn't..." Kurt whispered.

"She probably did," Blaine replied.

"Shit."

"Well, I guess we'll just have to create some tales of our own to tell, right?" Blaine asked.

Kurt linked his hand with Blaine's. "I can't _wait._ "


End file.
